A Good Teacher
by vr2lbast
Summary: Weiss Kreuz Glühen  Aya POV  Aya supervises the training of the new recruit, Kyou. He places him in Ken's care, hoping that Kyou will learn something about the way Weiss will change him.


**A Good Teacher **(April 2007)

Weiss changes you.

It might seem obvious that the life of an assassin would change you – who would not be changed by killing his fellow man? – but it's a difficult thing to explain to a newcomer and something I have never done before.

When I joined Weiss, I was the last in a group of four. It was a boy three years younger than myself who told me that Weiss would change me. He said it with a smile on his face. I didn't believe him. I don't think he believed himself. We were young, then, and immortal. Even I, who claimed it didn't matter if I lived or died, thought I was immortal.

But Weiss did change me, and not, as one might think, for the worse. I have lost my anger, I have healed my wounds – mostly – and I have learned why it is important that I live.

Is that arrogant? Why should a murderer be suffered to live?

Because there are worse things in the world than murder. Because I have seen the smiles on the faces of those who might have fallen prey to my victims and suffered a worse fate than a quick, clean death. Because, without me as I am, the world would be full of angry youth killing mindlessly without thought to the damage they might do to others or themselves. Because I know when to stop.

I tell these things to Kyou, but he sees only hope. Weiss has changed me, but not for the worse. I am not a good teacher.

Yohji is no better. He has changed, but his changes are too deep and too personal to set an example. Yohji has always been Yohji. How does one describe his changes? 'He has always drunk too much, smoked too much, and slept around, but now he drinks too much, smokes too much, and sleeps around differently?' No, to see Yohji's changes, one must know him for years. Yohji is not a good teacher.

Ken is an excellent teacher.

"Tch. If you go and pull something like that you'll leave your whole side open."

The heavy thump of a kick connecting with a human torso follows. I can hear this lesson from down the hall.

It pains me to say it – almost as much as it pains Kyou to learn it – but if anyone can teach a newcomer the true meaning of Weiss, it's Ken. I can give him rhetoric, I can give him philosophy, I can – in the grand tradition of infomercials the world over – tell him how being a cold-blooded killer worked for me, but I cannot teach him what Weiss really is.

The first time Kyou met Ken, he was a hired thug looking for money to conduct a personal investigation. He saw in Ken an easy mark without wondering why a gang of college toughs would hesitate to take a single target head-on. He was proud of his strength and his abilities.

The first time Kyou met me, he was being ground face-first into the sidewalk.

Ken has no patience for rhetoric and no head for philosophy. Being a cold-blooded killer did not work for him and he can't be bothered to tell you about it, but he will show you, if you like. The first lesson he taught Kyou was not to underestimate a man who is shorter and skinnier than you. He burned it into Kyou's skin along with a healthy case of road rash.

Unlike the cuts and scrapes, however, the lesson stayed with Kyou. Not a bad lesson for anyone...and a very good lesson for Weiss.

He learned caution as well and did not jump at the opportunity when I approached him regarding a position in Weiss. I told him we could give him what he wanted: information and a chance for revenge, but he hesitated and asked questions. I told him he would have to kill and he considered this carefully. I told him it would change him and he nodded, though he did not believe me, and considered this as well.

I told him he would be working with Ken.

Some people understand that medicine isn't meant to be enjoyable. Others think medicine is of no use at all. Kyou took to his training without a word, confident in his abilities and drive to succeed. He bore Ken's complaints about being stuck with a rookie in good grace and only once – in a mild sense of fun – asked if he was afraid.

The second lesson Ken taught Kyou was how to read his teammate's moods and when to keep his mouth shut. He tattooed it in black and blue over every inch of Kyou's body. Unlike the bruises, the teaching didn't fade.

Does this seem harsh? I suppose it is.

But on his first mission, Kyou did not confront the target – a small, weasely man – on his own. He saw that the man was not as afraid as a small, weasely man should be, faced with a tall, athletic youth. He tracked the man until he had back up and saved himself from perforation by a semi-automatic pistol. It was a flawlessly executed distraction and attack planned solely through gesture and body language.

And why not? Kyou has learned from the best.

Ken resents being paired up with Kyou so often, especially since I won't tell him why. He complains that working with a rookie slows him down, that he can't stand to stop and explain what's going on, that – worst of all – he loses kills so that Kyou can 'practise'.

There may be a kernel of truth in that last remark, but, mostly, I think Ken doesn't want Kyou to hate him. He likes Kyou, in his own way, and admires him, in his own way. He knows how easily he can be stirred up and how helpless he is in the face of his own emotions. He does not want to inflict this on Kyou. He does not want to be hated.

Kyou thinks Ken is a monster.

"What the fuck did I tell you about kicks? If I grab your ankle, you're fucked!"

"I'm doing exactly what you told me to do last week!"

"Fuck last week! Do what I'm telling you to do now!"

He's right, of course. Ken is a monster. The exchange is followed by a heavy thud and a flurry of activity. Kyou has twenty minutes left, but Ken wants to finish now. He's tired, I can hear it in his voice, but he knows I'll question him if he doesn't complete the training session, so he presses on, weariness fuelling impatience and anger, making him cruel. Kyou will come through this with a healthy aptitude for self-defense.

I suppose that makes me a monster as well. Leaving Kyou to Ken is no act of charity, but I am near enough to monitor the situation and can intervene if necessary. It's important to make them follow through. It's important to drive Ken to the point of exhaustion. It will be better for them both in the long run.

Because if Ken is a monster, then he is a Weiss-made monster. Unlike me, he did not bring his demons to Weiss; Weiss gave his demons to him. His anger has no goal to be fulfilled and his hate has no focus to be confronted. He is angry at the world for betraying him and hates himself for being betrayed. Unlike Yohji, who has always drunk too much, Ken hasn't always been a monster. He lives on rage and adrenaline, but these feed on him in return, and sometimes, when his fire burns out, the past shines through.

That is something neither Yohji nor I can give Kyou.

The fight has lost its graceful rhythm and Ken has stopped cursing. I can hear Kyou's voice, softer than before, cajoling, and it breaks off suddenly. There is a moment of silence followed by a frantic "Fujimiya-san!"

When I get to the training room, Kyou is awkwardly lowering Ken to the floor. It's obvious that he tried to catch his teacher, but Ken is heavier than he looks. His frame is bone and solid muscle, nothing more and nothing less.

Kyou is usually calm and reserved, but today it's obvious that he's relieved to see me. "Fujimiya-san," he breathes as I help him ease Ken down onto his back. "Fujimiya-san, I don't..."

"Aya is fine," I tell him. Ken drilled the use of his first name into Kyou within the first twenty-four hours, but Kyou was raised to be polite and can't quite come to grips with the idea that a short name is better for calling out a warning. Even now he looks uncomfortable and not all of it has to do with Ken's collapse.

"Did you hit him?" I ask and Kyou looks horrified.

"No!"

"More's the pity."

I'm serious although Kyou is stunned. Had Ken been knocked out, it would have meant a few days of harsher growling followed by the grudging admission that Kyou was a good fighter. As it stands, he'll probably curse his own weakness until that guilt melts into the bubbling stream of self-hate that flows through him like blood. But that will come later.

"I don't know what happened," Kyou tells me, although he is less confused than disbelieving. "We were just... He just..."

I don't mince words. "He fainted."

Kyou doesn't want to believe me. For him, I suppose it's like being told - to borrow a rather trite cultural reference - that Godzilla was felled by a fit of the vapours. It's better to keep him occupied.

"Toss me that towel over there and get me a cold, damp cloth," I tell him and he jumps to obey my commands.

While he's gone, I roll the towel up and tuck it under Ken's head. His silence is unnerving. "You're an idiot," I whisper, mostly to fill it.

He isn't, not really, although one would never know. Ken's decided somewhere along the way that he isn't meant to show any signs of intelligence, beginning with his own health. His collapse might have been a surprise to Kyou, but a good look at Ken's sharply angled face and deeply shadowed eyes would have told him all he needed to know.

Kyou returns and gives me the cloth, wrung out and folded, then steps back and crouches down to watch from a respectful distance as I cool Ken's face and wrists. He radiates none of the silent glee one might expect from a man seeing a tormentor felled, but observes with interest and concern. When Ken stirs, he straightens his top and smoothes the lines of his workout clothing as if his teacher will notice. I concentrate on Ken to hide my smile.

Ken comes to with a moment of disorientation, followed by a desperate attempt to get up. It's a natural reaction; Weiss teaches you to be aware of the presence of potential threats and move instinctively into a defensive position. I push him back down without attempting to restrain him.

"Lie still, Ken," I tell him. "You're at home."

He relaxes a little at the sound of his name and a familiar voice, but still struggles to sit up. I allow it, steadying him for the first minute or so. It's a sign of weakness and Ken doesn't like it, but there isn't much he can do.

"Jesus," he sighs. "I feel like shit."

"I told you to take better care of yourself. You need to eat. You need to sleep."

"I had a cup of ramen this morning," he protests. "Well, most of a cup of ramen..."

I can't help but sigh myself. "I won't tell you that's not enough, Ken. You know that's not enough." I signal to Kyou, who looks shell-shocked. "Run and get the rest of the miso soup and a Valium."

With a task to focus on, he nods and obeys, pausing only to cast an uncertain glance over his shoulder when Ken groans in protest. He only hesitates for a moment; he's gone before I can glare at him to get him moving again. I wish the rest of my team was as obedient.

"You're scaring the rookie," I tell Ken once Kyou is out of earshot.

He looks crestfallen. "I try not to," he says, scratching the back of his neck, a sure sign of embarrassment. "It's just... Why do you stick him with me all the time? You know my patience is shit."

"I stick him with you because your patience is shit," I remind him. "You need to learn to get along with him, Ken. You used to be better than this."

He chuffs and tries to stand, but I push him back down. Sullenly, he sits cross-legged and props an elbow on his knee, his chin on his palm. He watches the doorway as if awaiting an executioner.

"If it's any help, he thinks you're a demon...or the devil himself," I tell him.

At this, he smiles, rueful. He likes to pretend he's evil. Somehow it's better than being human, than being frail, although this frailty is precisely what I want.

I've only told Ken half the truth. He does need to learn to keep his temper, but I've paired him up with Kyou in anticipation of this moment or another very like it. It's important for Kyou to see that even demons can be brought low. It's important for him to know that we're only human in the end, that we can be hurt, that we can die. Most of all, it's important for him to see that we can change.

That is what has left him feeling lost and uncertain, I think. Ken feeds on anger and adrenaline and it feeds on him in turn, but when it's burned away, when the rage has nothing left to feed on, he's nineteen again. Nineteen at its worst, perhaps – with all its sadness and pain – but thoughtful, hopeful, and, above all...kind. It's a side of Ken that Kyou has never seen and doesn't know how to deal with.

Kyou appears in the doorway, tray in hand, and pauses, afraid of interrupting. Ken doesn't see him, or perhaps he does and wants to take a moment to say things he could never tell Kyou to his face without losing his demonic reputation.

"It's still mean," he tells me. "Kyou's a good kid. He shouldn't be here, even if he is a good fighter."

"If he wasn't here, he'd still be trying to get into Koua on his own," I say and it's as much for Kyou's benefit as Ken's. "This way, he'll have training and assistance."

Ken snorts. "Hope he turns out like you and not me."

I can tell by Ken's tone that he has said all he wants to say. "You'd be less like you yourself if you learned to keep your temper," I scold, but lightly. It's a way to close the conversation and nothing more. I wait a heartbeat before turning my attention to Kyou. "You're back."

Kyou blinks as if startled, and then looks down at his tray and nods. "Yeah," he says, coming forward and placing the tray respectfully before Ken. He takes a few steps back and crouches down, offering a casual bow.

"Hey, hey… Presents for me," Ken says. His grin is somewhat forced, but his tone is friendly enough. "All lined up even. What's this?" He raises one of two dark, triangular packages. "Onigiri?"

"If you're exercising, miso soup isn't enough," Kyou says. His head is bowed and I can't read his expression, but he sounds embarrassed. "Rice will stay with you longer. I thought… I thought two because, even if you don't eat them both now, one can be for later and it's already put aside…"

Kyou is a man of few words, but uncertainty has made him unable to stop. Ken cuts him off by ruffling his hair. "Yeah, yeah. Thanks, Coach, I got it."

"Pill first," I tell him.

Ken sighs and looks pained. "Do I have to?"

He hates drugs, always has, and I try to respect that, but some days it's better to be safe than sorry. There's no guarantee that he's exhausted enough to sleep without some sort of sedative.

"Yes," tell him. "What if Rex comes with a mission? Take it now, rest, and you'll be well enough to work this evening if you're needed."

He makes a face and a noise of disgust, but puts the pill on his tongue and washes it down with a mouthful of soup. He eats slowly, partly because he's uncomfortable being observed and partly because he doesn't really want the food, no matter how badly he needs it. Nevertheless, he drains the bowl and manages one of the rice balls for Kyou's sake, promising to eat the other later. The Valium shouldn't kick in for a little while yet, but he's already heavy-lidded and close to sleep.

"Just go to bed, Ken. I'll take care of that," I tell him when he tries to pick up the tray. "Kyou, go with him. Make sure he's asleep before you leave."

Ken snorts. "I don't need a nursemaid," he snaps and stalks off toward the door.

He probably doesn't – he all but promised to rest when he took the pill – but it won't hurt for Kyou to spend time with him while his temper is low. I think Kyou agrees: he looks both puzzled and eager. He wants to follow orders, but hangs back until Ken has left the room.

"What was that?" he asks me in a low voice.

"The real one," I tell him and the look of understanding that crosses his face tells me he might have learned something about change. He opens his mouth to ask another question, but I cut him off. "Go after him before he wanders off somewhere. If he's restless, talk to him about sports or something. He likes soccer."

Kyou's face lights up. An athlete himself, it's a subject he can manage easily although he's never thought to try. "I will. Thank you, Fuj… Aya-san."

He bows slightly in my direction and turns toward the door, jogging lightly to catch up. Under different circumstances, they might have been friends, but I will be satisfied if they come to know each other as teammates, perhaps even as teacher and student. Kyou is already learning and, if he applies what he has learned, perhaps Ken's wish will come true. Perhaps Kyou's change will bring him satisfaction instead of bitterness and hate.

And, if his change is for the better, perhaps Ken will no longer see destruction in everything that he touches.

Weiss changes you, but no rule says it cannot change you twice.

[end


End file.
